“Mr. Gardiner.” Darcy inclined his head in respect as well as courtesy. “It is well with you?” He cast his eyes briefly toward the bride. “With all of you?”
“Mr. Darcy,” the elder man responded, a slight hitch to his breath from the ascent, “your servant, sir. An unexpected matter detained us, but yes, we are all well and ready to proceed. And on your part, sir?”
“There should be no problem. The groom is prepared. Shall we go in?”
“As soon as may be,” returned Mr. Gardiner. “Please God that this business is concluded quickly and duty discharged.” Darcy nodded his complete agreement with the sentiments and turned to greet the man’s good wife and the prospective bride.
“Where is Wickham?” Lydia Bennet interrupted from under the wide brim of her ridiculous bonnet and strained to look beyond him into the darkness of the church. “Is he within? Should he not be here?”
Mrs. Gardiner looked up in alarm, and Darcy hastened to reassure them. “Yes, he is here. Will you walk in?” He helped the two women through the doorway, stopping only for a quick nod from Tyke Tanner indicating that Wickham was in position at the front of the sanctuary. He turned to Mrs. Gardiner. “May I escort you, ma’am?” He held out his arm.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” She sighed gratefully as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Thank you for everything.”
“You are very kind, madam,” he began, but his companion tapped his arm.
“No, it is you, sir, who are very kind, as well as a great many other good and admirable qualities.” She smiled up at him in such a way as to call forth an answering smile from his own lips in spite of the flush that was spreading across his face. Looking before them, Mrs. Gardiner sighed once more. “It is such a lovely day. Lydia does not deserve it, the wretched child, but that is the way of it, is it not!” She looked at their surroundings. “Well, if it were not that it would puff up my wayward niece, I could wish that her family was here, at least Jane and Elizabeth.”
They took up a position behind her husband and Lydia and followed them into St. Clement’s sanctuary, traversing with slow steps the central aisle, dappled here and there with colored sunlight pouring from the great windows hung above them. It
They reached the front of the sanctuary. Dropping his arm, Mrs. Gardiner took her place behind her niece as he took his, just to Wickham’s right. The crisp newness of the bridegroom’s blue coat had lent him a dignity that he assumed with frightening ease there before the minister. The bride blushed and whispered audibly to her aunt, “Is he not handsome?”
“Dearly beloved,” the man opened the service. Wickham’s shoulders drew back. Darcy looked straight ahead lest the battering wisdom of the words being spoken, breaking upon the charade in which he was playing, should betray his face into revealing his thoughts. In shockingly few minutes, it was done. He bent to record himself as witness in the register while Mrs. Gardiner embraced her niece and tepidly shook her new nephew’s hand. Mr. Gardiner bestowed a quick kiss upon the bride’s forehead.
“Well, then,” Mr. Gardiner said, ignoring Wickham’s move to clasp his hand, “I believe all is in readiness at home. Will you share in the wedding breakfast, sir?” he addressed the minister, who politely declined. He turned to Darcy. “I know that you must be away and will not join us save for dinner tomorrow, when this pair are gone.” He extended his hand, and each shook the other’s with a firmness that testified to their mutual regard. “You are very good, Mr. Darcy. It is an honor.” Mr. Gardiner bowed and, calling his wife to his side, descended to the waiting carriage.
“Darcy.” Wickham addressed him.
“Wickham…Mrs. Wickham,” he acknowledged them. Mrs. Wickham curtsied and giggled.
“When will —?” Wickham asked, stepping closer.
“As soon as I arrive home, all will be set into motion,” he murmured. “See to your wife, and it will be well.”
“Of course!” Wickham stepped back and clasped his new wife to his side. “She is worth a great deal to me, is she not?” A new cascade of giggles fell.
“Mrs. Wickham.” Wanting nothing more than to be gone from them both, Darcy bowed quickly to the bride and strode down the stairs to his carriage.
“Home,” he directed his driver.
“Yes, sir,” his coachman answered him as he gathered the reins. Folding up the stairs, the groomsman shut the door, and Darcy’s view of the newly married couple was obscured. Dropping his hat onto the seat, he closed his eyes and stretched, releasing tension in muscles cramped by a tight grip on decorum. Ah, it was good to be in his own carriage again! Traveling about anonymously in noisome hired cabs had held some adventure, but it was over; and he was glad of it. Such intrigue was better left to others who by nature enjoyed it. He must be for Pemberley as soon as possible…as soon as possible. He relaxed into the thought. Pemberley. How he needed to be home!
Chapter 10
Full Circle
Darcy examined the knot of colorful silk that was his driving club’s signature neckcloth, observing in particular the series of knots cascading with deceptive ease into the top of his waistcoat. Club rules decreed that it be arranged precisely so, and no member would be granted entree to the dinner if it deviated in the slightest degree. Never one to abide such nonsense, Darcy had not attended the Four-and-Go Club’s annual dinner since his induction a number of years before, but tonight was Bingley’s night. Therefore, not only Fletcher’s skill but his memory also had been called upon to produce the required entrance ticket.
“Well done, Fletcher!”
“Thank you, sir.” The valet lowered the hand mirror and placed it carefully on the dressing table. “I only hope that Mr. Bingley’s man can achieve the same result. His last attempt was merely passable.”
“That is why Mr. Bingley will come to Erewile House for your inspection before going to dinner.” Darcy shrugged into the frock coat his valet held up.
“Indeed, sir!” Fletcher replied as he smoothed the shoulders. Darcy could hear the smile of satisfaction in his voice. “I shall await your summons.”
Nodding, Darcy gathered his fob and pocket watch, left his rooms, and proceeded down the stairs to the Small Parlor. The much-longed-for retreat to Pemberley after the Wickham affair had lasted only a week. His Matlock relations had arrived hard upon his return, and most of his time had been spent in their service. Lord and Lady Matlock were not unwelcome guests, and the introduction of his cousin D’Arcy’s new fiancee, a lovely and modest young woman suggested by Her Ladyship, was a pleasure, especially for Georgiana. Darcy managed a few private moments with his sister in which to confide his discovery of Wickham and relate in general terms that the affair had been brought to a successful conclusion. She listened with sympathy and accepted his abbreviated account with a sincere joy that all had ended well for the family of her newest acquaintance. “Might Miss Elizabeth Bennet visit us again?” she asked, but he held out only a weak “Perhaps” as a possibility.
Georgiana’s desire to see Elizabeth again echoed strongly in his own heart. How he longed to know her thoughts, her feelings about all that had transpired! Was she recovered from her pain? Had she returned to her former liveliness, or had the whole affair changed her irrevocably? The frustration of his desire was an ache in his chest. She could never know of his involvement beyond her desperate confession to him that day in Lambton. He had expressed to the Gardiners in the strongest terms that his involvement be kept secret and that Lydia be sworn to silence. The Bennet family was to know nothing. He had, in short, no reasonable expectation of
“Show him in, Witcher,” Darcy instructed his butler upon Bingley’s announcement at the parlor door. With quick strides, his friend came and, in some perturbation, stood before him and demanded Darcy’s opinion of “this blasted knot.”
